


Fire and Flame

by MagdaTheMagpie



Series: Marvel & Magic [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagdaTheMagpie/pseuds/MagdaTheMagpie
Summary: After a mission in Romania, Sam gets his wings burned by a frigging dragon. He sometimes wishes his life was a bit more normal.





	Fire and Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvelously Magical Bingo 2018!  
> Square N4: Sam Wilson/ Charlie Weasley

Mission over. Another win for the Avengers. Clear blues skies all around. Sam couldn't resist spreading his wings just a little longer. Soaring over a forest so vast and green it looked like an ocean. He turned off his com and drifted from one air current to the next, like a leaf, without a care. Just him and the wind.

Of course it couldn't last. Of course something would go wrong. That was a given since he'd become an Avenger. Even before that, actually. Since he'd met Steve. Not that he regretted it, but sometimes he wished things were a bit more… normal.

No robots straight out of Terminator, no monsters from other dimensions or space, no temperamental coffee-maker spitting boiling water at him because he put the filter in wrong, no mad scientists speaking a mile a minute in words that were supposedly english but had so many syllables, Sam sometimes wondered if they made them up just to confuse him…

Just a tiny bit of peace and quiet now and then would be nice. But the monstrous roar echoing throughout the green sea of leaves seemed to disagree with his wishes. Sam flipped in the air to glance all around him and found birds by the dozens taking to the sky all at once and tailing it out of there. Sam paused in flight, staring at the spot in question.

Should he tell the others about this? It might just be… a bear? He wasn't sure. He didn't know much about the Romanian forests, or about bears for that matter, so he decided to inspect the disturbance first and call backup after if need be.

Sam nodded to himself. That way, Tony wouldn't mock him mercilessly for calling in Earth's mightiest heroes because he’d cried wolf. Who knows what sort of nickname he would end up with after that. Birdman was bad enough, but accurate, he supposed. And don't get him started on Tweety bird…

Sam flew cautiously towards the danger zone, senses on high alert as he descended for a better look, so he didn't understand what had happened when all of his electronics suddenly went on the fritz. He could still fly, but barely, and he was too close to the trees and then, in the forest itself.

The trees stood tall and far apart, enough that he could manoeuvre. He even thought of landing before he heard the roar again.

Nope. No landing for him. He'd be defenseless on the ground.

“Come on, come on,” Sam prayed as he pushed his wings to bring him upwards.

Trees started crashing behind him and Sam turned his com back on. He didn't care if Tony called him chicken. He was fucking terrified. A dark forest alone with some giant beast after him… yeah, this was a nightmare alright.

But his com didnt work. Not one bit. Of course it didn't. Avengers luck, right? Just him and his wings then.

Finding a warm air current, he leaned into it and shot upwards, out of the trees again, but so did his pursuant.

“Are you frigging kidding me?”

It was a dragon. He'd never seen one before, but what else could it be? It was a textbook dragon: wings, scales, tail, teeth and all.

It roared. Sam fled.

He was not equipped for this, so he flew, dived and rolled to avoid sharp teeth and even sharper talons, but the dragon was always there and as he'd feared since he first saw it, it breathed fire. A wave of scorching hot fire burned the air around him.

It was all he could do to wraps his wings around him. It was his only chance for survival, and it worked… up to a point. Because he was plummeting  to the ground now and his wings could barely slow down his downward spirit to the ground.

Then there was a shout and a smaller flame zoomed passed at breakneck speed before disappearing from view again. Sam couldn't have followed it with his eyes if he had wanted to. He was having a hard enough time breathing as it was with the wind whipping around him.

“Got you!” he heard just as he was jerked upwards then hauled over someone's lap.

And was that a branch? No, a broom. He was flying on a frigging wooden broom. How as that even possible?

“What the actual fuck?” Sam gritted out, trying to get a glimpse of his saviour, but all he could make out was a lot of leather and the flaming red hair he had noticed earlier.

“Keep your knickers on, mate. We still got a grumpy dragon lady to outfly.”

“On a broom?”

“Hey, it's a perfectly fine Nimbus 2000. Don't hate on the broom, man, or it will buck you off before you can say Quidditch.”

Temperamental brooms? Alright. Why not? He had to live with a spitting mad coffee-maker after all. So Sam remained as still as possible, even if he wished he wasn't in such a ridiculous position. The dragon roared and breathed fire, but couldn't catch up. The red-headed broom-rider was an incredible flyer if he said so himself, and the beast eventually gave up or found something more interesting to do.

“Hold on tight. Just five more minutes and I'll get you to the infirmary.”

“I don't-”

“No excuses. You get barbecued, you go to the infirmary. That's Rule number two of the Dragon Reserve.”

 _Since when was there such a thing as dragon reserve?_ his mind screamed.

“What's the first rule?” he asked instead.

For the first time, his knight in leather armour glanced down at him and flashed him a winsome smile that made him catch his breath, made his heart skip a beat the way it had that first time Steve had doled out his perfect smile at him for no other reason than he was happy to see him.

“Don't tickle the dragons.”

Sam snorted and dropped his face back to the ground where he could now see a small ring of wooden buildings come into view. He braced himself for the landing, feeling wrong-footed without the use of his wings and in his precarious position over the other man's lap, but at thr last minute, the redhead put an arm around him and hauled him up like he weighed nothing to set him on his feet just as they slowed down to earth. The broom slid beneath them and righted itself to become immobile in the other man's hand.

Smooth landing, and the guy didn't even have wings.

To be honest, Sam was torn between jealousy and admiration. Just like Steve. He'd like to meet someone clumsy and terrible looking for a change.

“I'm Charlie,” he said extending a hand.

“Sam. Thanks for saving my ass up there,” and he meant it.

He knew exactly what happened when you lost your wings and didn't have someone swoop in to save you at the last second. Sam blinked those images away and shook his hand while Charlie grinned like a madman. It was infectious.

“Would’ve done it sooner, but I was admiring your flying and lost precious seconds. You have wings. Real, actual wings.”

Sam was glad he wasn't the sort to blush, but he looked away anyway, checking his wings out as an excuse, even though he knew they were beyond repair.

“Had wings,” he replied mournfully. “I think they _melted_ on me.”

He was starting to feel the pain and heat of the burns now that he was safe.

“Infirmary,” Charlie ordered and escorted him towards the central building.

It looked nothing like a medical wing. No white walls, neon lights, beeping machines or sterile environment. Instead, he was greeted by wooden floorboards and old, metal-framed beds. He would've guessed hunting cabin before infirmary.

“Quaint,” he commented.

“Be nice,” Charlie said as he elbowed him in the ribs. “And sit. Or… do your wings come off?”

Sam nodded but knew it was going to hurt like a bitch.

“Don't you have a doctor around?”

“A healer, right? Nope. We're all trained to treat most injuries we might get here. If it's too serious, we get evacuated towards the nearest hospital. Safer that way.”

“Can't imagine why,” Sam muttered. “Okay. I'll release the left wing first if you can support it. I'd rather it didn't rip all of my skin off on its way down.”

Charlie nodded and stepped behind him, holding without hesitation his deformed wing when it slipped off it's support.

“Got it,” Charlie said. “Looks like it protected you pretty well on this side.”

Sam suspected most of the damage had been on his right but winced at having it confirmed.

“Alright. Next one.”

He released it and bit his lip to keep from crying out as it pulled at his skin, burns pulsating with pain with every thundering beat of his heart. He broke a sweat and felt a bit faint while Charlie pulled his broken wing away ever so carefully, before setting it down next to its twin with care and reverence.

“You like to fly,” Sam said.

No one else would have that sort of longing in their eyes.

“Yes, but I've never seen someone fly like you. It was beautiful. A broom is faster, but it's not… I don't get that same freedom, you know?”

Sam nodded in understanding.

“Of being carried by the wind? Yeah, I do know,” he replied with a sad smile.

“Come on, let's get you fixed and then we'll see what we can do about your wings.”

Sam nodded and slowly took off his leather armour, one piece at a time. It was like a very fastidious, very painful strip-tease. Charlie helped him when the layer of clothes clung to his skin, while Sam could only clench his jaw. Thankfully, his bottom half had been spared the dragonfire. He didn't even want to think having his bits melded to his leather pants.

“Verdict?” Sam asked once he was bare-chested. “Should I be shipped off to the hospital?”

Charlie took a step back, as if admiring a painting.

“I think I'll manage,” Charlie sounded smug, doubly so when he ordered him to lay on the closest bed.

Charlie reached for a glass jar on a nearby shelf which was filled with a frankly disgusting-looking, bright orange paste.

“That's going to clash terribly with my complexion,” Sam muttered.

“Nothing ever goes with orange,” Charlie shrugged.

Sam begged to differ. Charlie's bright ginger hair couldn't have suited him better and he seemed to wear it proudly when he could so easily have shorn it short, dyed it, or even simply have hidden the long orange strands beneath a hat.

His mind soon drifted from the other man's striking hair to his hand. They felt impossibly cool against his skin, but that was probably caused by the paste he was rubbing over his burns. The relief was immediate. Sam closed his eyes and relaxed, never noticing the moment he drifted into a peaceful slumber.

 

When he woke up, the pain had disappeared and he wasn't even exaggerating. He could see no mirrors around, probably a good idea in a place that was doomed to treat horrific injuries, so he tentatively passed a hand over his shoulder to touch one of the places he had been badly burned.

Nothing but smooth skin. It couldn't be possible. He trailed his hand over his back, as far as he could reach, but all he could feel was unbroken skin all the way.

“Need a hand there, Sam?”

Sam whirled around at the sound of Charlie's bemused voice.

“How?” he demanded. “The burns…”

Charlie raised a brow and showed off his hands.

“Magic hands?”

“What? Seriously?”

With the things he saw as an Avenger, anything was possible in his opinion.

“Could be. You should stay conscious next time to find out,” Charlie retorted with a wink.

Sam stared at him. Was he flirting with him? Or just teasing? He hadn't a clue, so he nodded. Let the cheeky sod make of it what he would.

“Thanks. So… this place…”

Sam trailed off, not sure how to voice his concern about a dragon reserve, which implied a certain number of dragons. And he'd seen the beast. It was anything but peaceful. What if one got loose from the reserve and rampaged a neighbouring town. It would go up in flames in a matter of seconds and kill hundreds, thousands…

“Uhm. Kind of a secret. People don't usually come in from the sky so it didn't have the usual repelling wards. That's been corrected already, of course. The Dragon Handlers Guild would like to extend their sincerest apologies to you.”

He nodded but mulled over his words. He'd never heard if such an institution, but SHIELD had more secrets than it knew what to do with..

“I didn't even know dragons really existed outside fairy tales, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

“No, you don't seem the type to scare easily, which is why I'm doing this.”

Charlie produced a polished stick from his pocket and aimed it at his melted wings.

“Reparo.”

And there, in front of his very eyes, his wings unmelted, for lack of a better word, like a video played backwards. It was weird and eery, but over so fast, he might have missed it had he blinked. His wings now lay solid and gleaming, like new.

“Okay. Apology accepted, although I should really be the one thanking you for… well, everything.”

“It's part of my job. But if you really want to thank me, you only have to take me for a spin. You know, one good ride deserves another?”

“I’m pretty sure that's not how the saying goes,” Sam laughed, but he accepted to take Charlie flying. Wanted to, in fact. The only other person he knew who loved flying as much as him was Tony, and the man was too insufferable to bond over it. He imagined flying with Tony would be akin to getting stuck on a long drive with a yapping chihuahua on caffeine.

“Not now, though. My wings might look shiny and new, but I'd better have them checked out first, especially if I have a passenger. Raincheck?”

“I’ll hold you to that. Anywhere I can drop you off then?”

Sam looked through the window but there was not a vehicle in sight. He'd rather not go back to his team on the back of a broom however, even if the man's lap held some appeal right now. Realizing what he was doing, Sam quickly turned his gaze away from said lap.

“Does it involve riding a dragon?”

Charlie laughed.

“No, no. That would suicidal. Although my little brother did once. I've never been so jealous in my life, not that I'd tell him. He already has the ego of a Hippogryph. No, I was actually thinking or apparating you there?”

“Apparating?”

“It's easier if I show you,” Charlie said and waited for him to dress and pick up his wings, whistling a jolly tune.

“Ready?” he asked in a voice that made shivers run down his spine.

Sam gulped and nodded as Charlie stalked closer. He was pretty sure the other man was a magician, like the legendary Merlin, not like those frauds in Vegas. His arms slipped around his waist as he faced him, looking so mischievous he wondered if maybe he wasn't a leprechaun after all.

Then they were twisting and shrinking and moving all at once. It wasn't anything like flying and felt more like crashing through a storm. He hated every second of it, but clung on to Charlie for dear life. The trip only lasted an instant however, and they were now standing in a dark alleyway that had a prime view on the Triumph Arch in Bucharest. It had to have been at least a hundred miles away…

“Amazing,” he breathed out. “I mean, it was awful, but damn practical. Bit… erm… up close and personal though.”

Sam squirmed a bit against Charlie who hadn't let go of him.

“Oh, I didn't need to. I just wanted to.”

Okay, Charlie was definitely flirting with him, and his own heart was betraying him, thumping like mad at their proximity.

“I'll find my way from here, thanks. And I'll find my way back to you to take you flying. Give me a couple of days?”

“It’s a date,” Charlie agreed with a wide grin before pinching his ass and disappearing.

Oh, boy. Sam realized he was probably in way over his head, and he had no idea how he was going to explain to the others why he had been off grid for so long. Dragons and magic? He was going to have one hell of a time convincing his friends.

  
  
  
  
  
  



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